Ever Met an Eskimo?

Here I am. Back from my unintended blogless vacation.

Last weekend, I had an interesting experience, as you may have noticed from the title. I met an Eskimo.

You ask how? I'll tell you how.

After parting ways with a friennd, with whom I had just had coffee, I found myself wandering in the Mt. Pleasant district of northwest Washington.

I was walking from my car up to one of the main thoroughfares, when I saw strangely attired, very old and rather short Asian woman. She was hollering or saying something about how hot it is in Baghdad. I thought she was saying: "There's an Iraqi woman in my bag!" No joke.

Thanks to her, I was now informed that the temperature in downtown Baghdad was well over 100 degrees. That obviously prompted my interest.

I let her continue to talk with me over the next thirty minutes as we covered a whole 2 city blocks. After telling me something about Fairbanks, I said, "Oh, so you're from Alaska?" "Are you native American or indian?".

Needless to say, she didn't take to well to this. She emphatically stated that she was an Eskimo, and there is a big difference between Eskimos and indians. She said "They make war! We we are peaceful. Eskimos have no tribe, we are a people, a peaceful, loving people."

She told me her name was Tin, and then proceeded to tell me that America doesn't use enough of tin. She also shared with me the non-rusting properties of tin.

This was very fitting, because at her age, she certainly was not rusty!

I estimate this feisty little eskimo woman to be around 85 to 90 years old. She was telling me stories about WWI, Churchill, Woodrow Wilson and William I.

Wow! I not only was getting a history lesson, but before my very eyes I was staring at history.

She asked me several questions concerning my age, education and all that other stuff. She explained the difference between her nose and mine. Eskimos, she said, have flat, indented noses, especially in the region right between the eyes.

I apparently, have a nice, Roman nose and a great complexion, at that. I wasn't about to leave this woman behind. Tin, adorned in white clothing and white gloves, then proceeded to tell me that I am a clean person, first and foremost based on my complexion.

This is where it gets a bit strange:

Dirt is dark and bad. White and lighter is better, according to Tin.

I took what she said at face value, regardless of the controversial nature of her comments.

She knew a lot about the world. I could tell that she had read many many books. Tin, like myself knew a lot about other cultures and places in the world.

She of course, knows a lot more than me, and on a few occasions, I really wondered if she was an angel. Sent there to encourage me, if not at least continue to stoke my passion to visit other lands and peoples.

As we entered the grocery store and parted ways, I told her that I will NOT soon forget her, and what a pleasure it had been.

Thank you, Tin.